Crying Blood
by winchester-sweetheart
Summary: It's the Apocalypse and the Brothers have gone their seperate ways. Dean makes one little mistake on his own that puts his life in jeopardy. It's up to estranged brother Sam to come to his rescue. Includes brother beatings and hurt
1. Setting the scene

**Hey Guys, this is my new story. I'll try to update every week or so. Hopefully you like it!**

**P.S One of the brothers gets pretty beat up in the later chapters (don't want to spoil who it is) so if you like that kind of thing give it a go :)**

It was the apocalypse. The end of the world was finally here. Everything was going, bit by bit, taken over. America was dark now nearly all the time, but somehow managed to stay warm, even hot sometimes in certain parts of North America. The plants had begun to die, it was a surprise they'd even lasted this long without sunlight. Animals ran freely, especially since people had abandoned their houses in fear. Of course civilians didn't know what was going on, at first they were confused. There were a lot of church services for a while and then the preachers became too afraid to speak. Nobody knew what to do or where exactly to turn. Suicide was an extremely popular option; even the religious ones were doing it. They figured they were already in hell, they couldn't get much lower. Some joined the fight, finding hunters to train them. Of course they didn't learn nearly enough to face the dark forces that were now inhabiting the earth so the majority of the fighters ended up being killed. The remainders wandered, trying to get as far away from anything as they could, squatting in houses and pillaging abandoned supermarkets.

Demons wandered freely now, they didn't hide themselves or even try to blend in. They would kill in the middle of the road if they came across the poor unfortunate soul that had wrongly happened in their direction. There were often bodies strewn recklessly across the streets. There were blood stains on the roads that were starting to become so thick it looked like red paint.

Demons weren't the only ones who walked the streets freely, so were the hunters. They strode with their guns in one hand and blades in the other. The decent ones would move the bodies to the side if they came across one or if they had time might even bury them. But there was never enough time. It was precious now and they had to manage it as well as possible. The bad tempered ones didn't care about the innocents, especially if they got in the way.

Hell on earth had come and it was not a pretty sight.


	2. Dean's first mistake

**Sorry guys, if you're not fans of short chapters. It suits my story, though :)**

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_Dean wished this had another ending. He beat her down pretty hard, but deep down he knew he had to finish her. It was hard for him to think straight with the painful throbbing in his left arm, he was fairly sure that she had broken it when she threw him into a brick wall. Now, though, he had her pressed up against that same wall, her arms twisted agonizingly behind her back. _

"_It doesn't have to end like this, K.C" he warned her. He didn't want to kill her; it wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed be killing the demons, the horrible disgusting things that no longer hid away in the dark where they belonged. K.C was a woman, a real, live person, she'd had friends once, a family. _

"_You know it does, Dean." Her voice sounded so angry, so bitter. Even with her face forced against the cold brick her voice was clear and precise. It sort of seemed like she wanted it to happen this way, like she was telling him she understood why he had to do this. "I'll kill you if you let me go, you know, and then I'll kill your stupid-ass brother, rip him to shreds with my bare hands."_

_Of that he was sure. She was the instigator of this little encounter. It was obvious from the get-go that she was a fire starter. Fire starters were becoming more and more popular as time went by, their numbers doubling everyday. They were the hunters who began siding with the demons. Either they thought the humans cause was lost, they no longer agreed they were on the right side or more personal reasons. K.C was the former; she'd even told Dean that she was for human extinction, even if it meant she had to die too, just as long as the world would be a better place._

"_You listen to me, you bitch, I might've let you go," Dean was deadly serious. He might have let her go had she not mentioned his baby brother, at which point he snapped. "But now you know I can't."_

_He slammed her hard into the wall again. He felt the air escape her body and felt a small twinge of guilt. She was, after all, a human just like himself and a hunter who had probably killed just as many evil-sons-of-a-bitches as he had. But that didn't negate the fact that now she worked with them, side by side to kill innocent people._

"_Screw you." K.C coughed, blood drizzling down her chin. "I hope you and your brother die screaming in agony. I just regret that I'm not going to be there to see it myself"._

_Dean used his relatively free hand and slipped it around her throat. He squeezed without hesitation or falter until he heard her gasp for breath. In that moment he had a choice to make. He could let her go, something he might've done only a year earlier, or he could squeeze tighter, something that would ensure the safety of himself and his brother. Things had changed now, everything was so much different. He could kill her right now without the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach he used to get when he murdered anything even resembling a person. So he did. It didn't take long to finish the job and let her body slump lifelessly to the floor. Dean waited for the feeling to come, the regret, the self-loathing, the churning of his stomach. But it didn't, which concerned him even more._


	3. 6 Months later

**Next part as promised. Now, I'm very against proof reading (or too lazy, whicher excuse floats your boat) so there may be a few mistakes. Please forgive them.**

**I really do hope you like it and you will keep reading :)**

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Dean sat in his impala staring at the road ahead. His chequered shirt was almost completely drenched in blood, the coppery smell invading his nostrils. It wasn't his blood, well most of it wasn't anyway. That Wendigo had been a massive pain-in-the-ass bitch, much worse than the last one he'd faced. He was surprised to remember that that had almost been six years ago. Before everything. He was so tired these days, lonely, frustrated… old. God, he felt so old. Maybe thirty-two wasn't bad, but he'd been hunting for such a long time. He wanted so much to be able to retire, to just find an abandoned place and set up a home. He might've been able to do that in the old America, the relatively safe one that existed less than a year ago. But this was no longer an option, he was living in the new America where on one is secure. Now everybody was either the hunter or the hunted. Dean had seen children, knives in hand, take down deadly creatures and vice versa. The world was a different place.

Dean's own self-pity made him angry, or more precisely made him feel like a little girl. This he did not like.

He started the engine as swiftly a he could and drove slowly through the baron streets of New Orleans, trying his best to avoid any objects in his way- namely a lifeless woman by the side of the road (he briefly considered doing the honourable thing and moving her out of the traffic, but decided against the idea as it was too risky for his own safety).

He missed Sam. Of course he would never actually admit it to the guy, but for a long time his little brother was the only thing keeping him sane, everything else was just a muddled piece of crap. These days they barely spoke, they'd tried to fix the damage that had been caused by Sam's addiction but the repair was temporary. It couldn't be mended the way they had done it before… the canyon was too deep, the scars too fresh. A time out is what Dean had called it, a refresher. A refresher from what? The only person he had left? Hadn't he lost enough? Pushing Sam away was probably one of the hardest things Dean had ever done, letting the boy slip through his fingers. But it had to be done. Sam was better off without him as well, Dean was sure of it. Nobody to hassle him or make him hunt a different way.

Dean continued his pondering as he pulled into the driveway of a red-picketed farm-house, one he'd only seen on very few occasions. He slowed down as to not get too much mud and grime slashed onto his baby but not enough to leave himself vulnerable for an attack. The road lasted longer than it seemed with a glance, but ended fairly quickly. Dean pulled up as closely as he could to the main entrance, grabbed a knife in one hand, a gun in the other and sprinted to the double doors. They were boarded up tightly, except for one plank which Dean knew was his way in. Of course he needed to use the 'secret knock' to let the occupants know that he was a friend. He laughed to himself as his knuckle hit the wood in a pattern. This was possibly one of the stupidest things he'd ever agreed to.

After a moment the loose plank fell away to reveal a rather relieved looking Bobby on the other side.

"Well, quickly boy, we don't got all day." The older man reminded Dean, who was still regarding the secret knock as ridiculous.

Once through the door Dean regarded the fellow occupants. There were several more than there were last time Dean had visited the safe house. This was a place Bobby had concocted to house victims and innocents of the demon take-over. It was actually a pretty good idea, except for the food thing… it was extremely difficult to get ten plus people food in a demon infested city.

As Dean moved further into the house he saw several recognisable faces. Emmett the elderly hunter sat quietly at the dining table next to Jojo, a girl who hadn't spoken since Dean had found her hidden in the wardrobe of her house drenched in blood. He only knew her name from the necklace she wore. Xavier had lost his fiancée and had vowed revenge against the scum of the world, he had convinced Bobby and the other hunters to teach him to fight. In the corner were Clea and Olivia. Dean had slept with Clea a couple of weeks ago and was glad that she wasn't nearly as needy as some of the other woman he'd bedded. Olivia was still fairly shy, so he didn't know much about her.

Dean was so caught up in his own thoughts he'd forgotten that Bobby was standing in front of him with a grim expression.

"We took on four more this week," Bobby explained, referring to the amount of people in the house. "Food's gettin' to be an issue."

"The world's upside-down, Bobby."

"Kid, the world's always been upside-down, it's just now everything's at the surface." Bobby stared at Dean. "By the way. Where the hell you been? You don't call when you're gone anymore? I thought you were dead."

"Sorry, Bobby." Dean said sincerely. "Lose track of time a lot these days. Have you spoken to Sam recently?" he asked as if bringing it up was the most natural thing in the world.

"I have."

"Is he okay?"

"Why don't you speak to him for yourself?"

Dean was silent for a moment contemplating whether Sam's almost dark-side turn was enough to keep him at arms length for so long. After deciding that it definitely was he spoke softly, but forcefully. "Just tell me."  
Bobby grunted and scratched his beard.

"He's not alone. He's been hunting with someone else. Good thing, too, he shouldn't be alone this day and age."

"Who's he been hunting with?"

"Call him and find out yourself." Bobby said, raising an eyebrow disapprovingly before moving on from the younger hunter.  
Dean grumbled something incoherent but started moving once he realised he must look like an idiot standing in the middle of the room mumbling to himself.

Catching the eye of Clea he winked, instantly forgetting his Sam worries for the moment. Clea's seductive smile warned him that it was on as she followed him out of the room.


	4. Red Hands

**I'm running a bit behind writing this story, you know Uni work and all that jazz, but I've got another few chapters all done and dusted ready to post.**

**Hope you guys are still enjoying it, feel free to leave reviews (good or bad). I love reading them :)**

**P.S. A character enters this chapter that I think a lot of people have mixed feelings about. I wrote her in before her *spoiler* demise *end spoiler* in season 5, but I loved her character so I kept her in. Don't worry I promise she won't get in the way of the boys and there will be no romance with Sam.**

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Sam sat on the motel bed silently. To the right of him was his trusty laptop, untouched since the hunt's departure. He looked down at his hands which were covered in blood. Shocked at himself for being momentarily proud that he could resist the urge to lick them. This wasn't even demon blood for god's sake, it was a girl's. She had been lying on the floor of the abandoned hotel that the demon had already massacred. She was the only person still alive, but only barely. The poor girl couldn't have been more than eighteen years old with pretty blond hair that was turning black with her own dried blood. After checking her pulse Sam had placed his chestnut jacket gently underneath her head. He noticed a single tear sliding from the corner of her eye as she asked for her mother. Sam didn't answer, instead wiping her face and holding her hand. She died like that, with Sam looking into her eyes and willing her to let go. After he felt guilty for leaving her in that room with the other dead bodies, for not asking her name, for not trying harder to comfort her in her last moments. If he'd just told her it was okay, that her mother was fine, given her some kind of peace of mind. He wished he could care about her more, be like it used to be when every life lost meant something extraordinary and painful for him. But now it seemed to hardly matter at all which hurt more than Sam could possibly describe.

When the motel door slammed shut he was jolted from his daze to see the young blonde woman looking at him quizzically.

"Are you going to wash those?" Jo Harvelle asked, nodding her head towards his hardening red hands. When he didn't respond she took a step towards him, her mouth twisted in a concerned grimace. "Did the hunt go okay?"

After a moment Sam looked up at her and smiled bitterly. "Whatever it was was gone by the time I got there. It found one of the sanctuaries, you know like the one Bobby has. They were all dead. So much for timing."

Jo sat down on the wicker chair across the room looking down at her muddied boots.

"Yeah, mine didn't go so well either."

After hunting together for a few months the two had settled into a regime. If they felt the hunt was safe enough for one they would split up after forming a plan, otherwise they'd stick together. It wasn't always the best plan but it worked for them.

After a brief silence Jo pulled herself up from the chair. "Wash your hands, Sam." she said and headed for the bathroom to shower.

Jo and Sam had run into each other while on a fairly simple seeming hunt and decided to stay together when it got far more complicated and Jo's new boyfriend (and fellow hunter) was killed. Jo didn't seem too upset, which Sam saw as a bad sign. He knew from personal experience that holding anger and hurt in like that can lead to some very serious consequences. But all it really seemed to do was make Jo meaner and deadlier in a fight, channelling all of her grief into the fight at hand. She had improved so much since the first time Dean and Sam had met her in Ellen's roadhouse, she was quick and much stronger than she looked. Ellen wanted to stay with her daughter after things got really bad but Jo insisted they split. Her reasoning was that she couldn't lose somebody else. Ellen promised to take care of herself as long as Jo did they same. They kept in touch almost everyday.

As Sam lifted his body slowly and carefully from the bed he reached over and grabbed his phone that sat constantly on the bedside table. He checked his messages religiously, just to be sure his brother didn't need him. If Dean called Sam would go immediately, it wasn't pride or stubbornness that kept the younger man from contact but the thought that maybe he was dangerous. He kept away for the same reason Jo kept away from Ellen. He couldn't see anything happen to Dean and most of all he couldn't be the reason anything bad happened.

Flipping the phone back off Sam pulled himself to the sink in the kitchen, his tired knees creaking in protest. The water felt cool and soothing in his fingers, but the blackness was so thick that it would not come off. The water ran, but it wouldn't wash away the dead girl that nobody seemed to care about.


	5. Getting Involved

**Hey guys, hope you're still following my story. If you are sorry it's taking my so long to post... I've had a lot of uni work due and haven't had too much time up my sleeve.  
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If you still like it hit the button below and let me know! Or if you think it's crap tell me.**

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_Wow_ Dean thought as he pulled his pants back on. Clea was a talented girl… a really talented girl. How she managed to do that thing with her legs is something Dean will never know, but he was sure he would remember it for a long, long time. Long after he'd forgotten the name of the girl who had managed to pull it off. No wonder the girl had fallen asleep so quickly after the deed was done, it must have taken heaps out of her.

His shirt stuck to the moisture on his body as buttoned it up which made him consider taken a shower to freshen up. But then he remembered that by now the water would be dead cold, that was if it was still even running at all. So instead he grabbed his phone and slid it into his tight denim jeans pocket and headed for the lounge room that had sort of been made into a makeshift weapons storage unit by Bobby and the other hunters. He recognised the guns on the far corner of the room. A few belonged to his father, ones that had been saved from storage due to unfortunate emergency of the impending apocalypse. Another was Sam's that he'd left behind when he left. Looking at it now made this horrible pang vibrate up Dean's spine. He wasn't sure if it was the emotion in seeing it and missing his brother or the nostalgia and memories of the time when things were a lot less complicated.

He rubbed his hand over his face absently as he turned to leave the room, wondering if it was finally time to dial Sammy's number. His phone was in his pocket, his hands were free and his mind was finally clear. He wanted to call and today he didn't particularly care what Sam had almost done or about the huge brotherly blow-out or his own pride, he just needed to hear his brother's voice. He needed the assurance that everything was okay. Sam may have _told _Bobby that everything was fine, but Bobby didn't know the kid's voice like he did. The tiny nuances that were the line between truth and fiction were there always, they just needed to be figured out.

His fingers were sliding into his pocket and grasping the still cold plastic when he heard the muffle sounds from the next room. Surprised at first Dean slowly sneaked to the partially opened door to get a better idea of what it was that he was hearing. He felt his tense muscles relax when he realised that it was a woman's voice talking. There was only one voice so either whoever it was was slightly disturbed or she was on a phone. Dean's heart skipped a beat for one moment as he contemplated whether someone from the safe house would give away the address to someone untrustworthy. Again he relaxed when he heard the woman close the phone over making a crisp snapping sound. He was about to leave whoever it was in peace when she started murmuring again, but this time it wasn't speech. She was crying.

Dean usually knew better than to get involved in other people's business but at this place at this time all anybody really had was each other.

Taking a long inhale Dean finally rounded the corner hoping to see someone he hadn't met which Dean believed was the less uncomfortable situation to be in. As soon as he saw the long dark hair on the brightly clothed girl he recognised her as Olivia, one of the earliest settlers at Bobby's safehouse. She didn't really have any friends there as far as he could tell as he'd never seen her converse with anyone other than the everyday pleasantries. She was quite and always looked slightly sad.

She turned when his foot landed on a loose board and creaked angrily below him. Surprise crossed her face suddenly and she immediately tried to wipe her tears away.

"Sorry," Dean stated awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

Olivia smiled slightly then, but after a moment her nose flared and her faced crumpled somewhat, a sign that Dean remembered as meaning that a woman was about to start crying again.

"Olivia, right?" Dean knew her name, he just wasn't sure what he should say and asking her name might be a distraction.

"Liv," she corrected removing her hands from her face and extending one toward Dean. She sniffed. "I prefer Liv. Cahill. But obviously you can call me Olivia if you want."

_Great_, Dean thought _a bumble-er_. He shook her hand, which was surprisingly strong and smiled reassuringly.

"Okay, Liv," he said confidently, placing special emphasis on the name part. "I'm Dean."

"Yeah, I know. They talk about you a lot."

The man stopped breathing for a moment, another one like Anna? Please God No. Dean just needed a sane one, someone who hadn't been talking to angels or demons or whoever Liv was talking to.

"Who talk about me a lot, Liv? Don't worry, you can tell me."

Liv laughed slightly, her breezy voice solidifying for a moment.

"Umm, You know Bobby and Clea and the others here. You're pretty much a hero to everyone in these parts." She stopped and considered for a moment. "Who did you think I'd been talking to?"

Dean felt his face flush but decided that he had already embarrassed himself, he may as well be honest.

"Angels."

She didn't laugh at him as he'd expected. Instead her clear blue eyes bore into his, unflinching by the preposterous nature of his suggestion.

"You know those halo-y, winged creatures in robes who usually sing in choirs?" he considered for a minute. "Well, they're not actually like that, they're more spiteful and less cuddly than you'd imagine."

"You know people who speak to angels?"

"I've known a few."

"I'm flattered."

"What? Why?" he was losing this chick. The deeper the conversation got for him the further he began drifting into confusing.

"That you would consider me to be one of those people." She smiled broadly at him but it faded as quickly as it had spread. Suddenly it seemed that she remembered that just minutes ago she'd been bawling her eyes out. She glanced down at the phone that was still sitting snugly in her palm.

"Who was on the phone?" Dean cut to the chase. "and please don't tell me it was the creators of Saw telling you they're making another film."

She didn't smile, but looked back up at him with something like fear in her eyes.

"You've got to help me Dean." She pleaded. "It's my sister, she's in so much trouble."


	6. Through the night

**This is a short chapter, but I didn't want it with another chapter so here it is. Hope it's not too crap.**

**Thanks for Reading :D**

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The impala was freezing on the inside, he'd forgotten to wind up the driver side window when he parked. The leather squeaked reassuringly when his backside hit the interior as did the passenger seat. Dean almost forgot for a moment that it was not his brother sitting next to him but a woman he barely knew. A woman who by all means seemed slightly unstable, but whom Dean trusted regardless. It was simple to convince Bobby that they had to leave, after all Bobby trusted Dean to do what is right not just for himself, but for those who may not necessarily be able to help themselves. Olivia filled him in on her sister's story as they drove. She told him that her impetuous older sister, Kate, had left her to be with her boyfriend who it turns out was some kind of shape-shifter. Things turned a little ugly after that, so Olivia had promised her older sister that she would help her. Dean had heard the same kind of thing over and over since the world turned to shit, the monsters had become so much smarter. The rest of the way Olivia spoke quietly about her family and how she got to be where she was. Apparently Kate and herself had been close before Kate left which pretty much broke Olivia's heart. Dean couldn't help but notice the similarities between his situation and this weird woman in his Impala. After all, Sam and Dean had been as close as two demon hunting brothers with separate destinies could be.

At some point Liv stopped talking, which made Dean feel more comfortable. They rode the rest of the way in silence before he had to ask her where exactly in Maine her sister was. The fact that Dean and Bobby's safehouse was located in Vermont was extremely lucky for Kate Cahill as it would probably only take them two days in the car or less, depending on her current location.

Olivia told him that when Kate called she was in Piscataquis County. When Dean gave her his blankest look she elaborated by telling him that it was right on the cusp of the North Maine Woods and suddenly Dean's heart sank. He remembered Sam once telling him something about those woods. Something about Wendigos and several other creatures of strange origins living there, but at least he now had some idea of where he was going. Generally, as it would be getting dark in a while, Dean would have set up camp in an abandoned house for the night, but today he felt it would take too long. And of course, he would feel even less comfortable trying to sleep in a house with this woman. He decided that he would drink a heap of coffee and drive until he reached the North Maine Woods, no matter how long it took.

"I think we should keep going through the night. It's safer." He made up the most plausible reason. "You don't mind, do you?"

"I was hoping you'd say that." She yawned and almost immediatley fell into a deep, soundless sleep.

So Dean continued to drive through the snow and the freezing night.


	7. Just Call

_Another short chapter, they don't seem that short when I'm writing them :) I'm going to add two chapters today because they're both easy, short reads. _

_If you've stuck this out this long thank you. I know that the writing's pretty crapping, but I'm trying. If you like you can hit the review button and give me your thoughts._

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Sam hardly slept anymore. It was just habit that made him lie on his bed in the usual position, ready for the fatigue to hit him like it had in the old days. Now he was lucky if he got more than an hour per night. Not that he had time to get much more seeing as though he and Jo hunted 'til as late as possible at night and started as early as possible in the morning.

This particular night was worse than usual. He could not get the blonde girl out of his head. Deep down inside he realised he was trying to compensate for the fact that he couldn't care more for her. He imagined her life before the end. He saw her eating breakfast with her mother and father and brother, sneaking toast to the family Labrador under the table. He saw her at school with her friends, saw her playing tennis and maybe netball as well. But then he saw her again in his arms, the light going out in her eyes, blood pooling around her pink singlet top, the way she asked him so innocently for her mother. He'd never known her and now he never will. He could make assumptions about who she was, but he'll never really know.

The realisation came over him quickly after that, the one that had taken so long to come in the first place. It seemed so absurd that it had taken him so long to comprehend the reason he could not stop thinking of her. She was him. She was who he was turning out to be; the one who dies alone, who nobody really knows. He feared the stranger that would inevitably be with him at the end. The person who told him everything was okay when it wasn't, the person who didn't really care if he lived or not, someone who later lay in bed at night and wrongly imagined Sam's life, maybe growing up in New York with a sister and a mother. He didn't want this for himself. He didn't deserve much, but one thing he was worthy of was being with a person who cared. Sam was sure Jo gave a shit… but she wasn't Dean. And if Dean were to go Sam wanted to be there for his brother, the one with him until the end the way it was always supposed to be.

It suddenly seemed preposterous the decisions they had both made. Why the hell had he trusted Ruby? She was a demon wasn't she? Was he jealous that Dean had this clear defining destiny when his was still so up in the air? Was he angry that Dean didn't seem to need or want him around? Sam knew he was a smart person, but he hadn't been at all sensible with the choices he had made.

Sam knew that the morning was his time. It was his time to let Dean know that he was sorry for hurting him and betraying his trust and he was sorry for not being reliable when his brother needed someone to rely on. Tomorrow everything would change, everything would be okay.

Then his phone rang.


	8. Dean's second mistake

_Another shorty. Sorry_

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It was easy for Olivia to do what she did. Dean hadn't been expecting anything from her, she had made a point to make him as comfortable with her as possible. It was still dark when they reached the North Maine Woods, just as Liv had been hoping and training for. Dean had been driving for at least eight hours and his guard was way down. He'd been yawning for at least the last hundred miles which made the scavengers demons on the road more difficult to avoid and informed her that it would be easy to catch him unawares when they finally reached their destination. As he pulled the Impala into a vacant parking spot right near the entrance of a hiking track (the track Olivia had informed him to drive to) he asked her what they should do next. The next few minutes involved a nearby steering lock, a lot of upper body strength and a need for some revenge which she had in spades. He hadn't put up much of a fight after the metal collided with his face and that suited her fine. Thankfully his body fell forward heavily onto the steering wheel and not towards her, after all she was smaller than him and it might have wasted valuable moonlight to have to get him off her. She threw open her door and sprinted to the driver's side. When she opened it Dean's arm fell out lifelessly and just for a moment Olivia feared she had hit him too hard, that he was already dead. If that were the case it would mean all of her planning had gone down the drain. Planting herself within his group for the amount of time she had would have been wasted, all those months trying her very best not to stand out. To try and get him to notice her just enough so that he knew she was there in the background, but not enough for him to really see her. Then when she faked the phone call to her sister she worried that someone else would find her and offer to help. But everything had fallen into place perfectly; it would be a real shame if he was already dead.

A rush of relief hit her when she noticed the tall man's chest rising and falling slowly. Olivia knew there was no way she could move him by herself, so she pulled out her mobile phone and dialled the number of the only people she trusted.


End file.
